Lyrics:

I stick it to the mailman

I'm pinned against a pot plant

I'm sick of all the sun-tan

Oily with the ray-ban



Take that to the bank and call it a check

Masked without a weapon



I'm skinny as a spit pan

Dealing with the shit plan

Playing with my bad hand

Just another rock band



Take that to the man

and call it a check

Trapped within a contract



Hey there boy while you were catching the black widow

The rest of us were watching melrose



I wanna swim in the wattershed

I wanna listen to the flowerhead

I lost a gallon and still I bled

I keep on thinking i get ahead



Pissed at all the disc jam

Pissed about the 5-ham

Pissed about the green state

I miss it and I can't wait



Hey man can't you tell it's still a problem?

See you at the devil's tower